


The Stripe

by elevatordancer



Series: Toll Taking [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, Cerberus Coup, Gen, James notices things, Virmire Survivor feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-12 23:50:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elevatordancer/pseuds/elevatordancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James isn't the most observant guy, but there are some things he doesn't miss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Stripe

The first thing James had noticed after the whole fiasco on the Citadel with Cerberus, was how quiet the commander had been when he got back to the Normandy. He’d ignored everyone, face closed off, and headed immediately for his cabin telling EDI to keep everyone out for a bit.

Intrigued, and slightly worried about the unusual behavior, James had sought out Scars, who had been in Shepard’s squad during the battle. The answer he received for his inquiry explained the mood that seemed to now encompass the entire ship. The lieutenant commander who had been with them on Mars had been killed. Shot by Shepard for refusing to back down. 

For the little amount of time James had known her, he’d gotten the impression she was strong willed, defiant in her beliefs, only being swayed by convincing evidence. She and Shepard had to have been close once because on Mars, when her lack of trust in Shepard was obvious, they fought together seamlessly, covering each other without a word, always sensing where to be to aid the other. Thinking on it, James knew the loss of this woman would take it’s toll on the war effort. On Shepard. 

The second thing James had noticed was a few days later as they stood in the shuttle on their way to investigate an Asari monastery. Shepard’s armor had changed. Not in a big way, just the color. The stripe on his right arm to be specific. The one that distinguished him in a crowd as an N7. It was no longer blood red. It was blue. The same shade Williams’ armor had been. Bright enough to catch the eye but not distracting. It fit. 

James had learned during a war like this, there had proven to be very little time to mourn the lost, or to find things to remember them by. He was just glad Shepard had found a way to remember her.


End file.
